


The pins are growing in

by brightclam



Series: Fire spirit Mick [6]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Episode: s01e11 The Magnificent Eight, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Len finally says the L word, M/M, Past Mind Rape, Victim Blaming, len and mick adopt Jax, mick faces the trauma of his time as kronos, tiny bit of blood and gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 10:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10511865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightclam/pseuds/brightclam
Summary: Mick and Len are back on good terms, but Mick is still struggling. Jax being captured doesn't help, nor does being hunted by the Time Masters. Len tries his best to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> me: I love all the legends  
> me, as soon as I begin writing as Snart: I hate all the legends except for Mick

\-------

Rip jumps out of his chair as the ship comes to a stop.

 

“Aah! It's been quite a while since I time-jumped far enough to experience side effects. Fond memories.” 

 

Jax stumbles out of his chair and moans:

 

“I can't feel my face.”

 

Len tries to speak:

 

“Fine feel I.”

 

Rip swoops in and diagnoses:

 

“Linguistic dysplasia, that should pass shortly.”

 

“Better it now.”

 

He frowns. Mick chuckles in his head: 

 

_ Doesn’t sound like it’s better. _

 

Jax whines again, more frantic this time:

 

“Am I the only one who can't feel their face?”

 

Ray stands up, innocent surprise on his face.

 

“I can't feel my... I better not say.”

 

He censors himself with such a prim air Len has to roll his eyes.

 

_ Come on Boy Scout, surely you're not such a good guy that you can’t even say dick. _

 

Stein comments with a gotcha tone:

 

“Mr. Rory appears unaffected.” 

 

Mick stirs in Len’s head, like a dragon eyeing prey but not ready to pounce yet.

 

“What's going on? We time-jump?”

 

It isn’t really asleep, it isn’t that careless. But the team swallows its dumb thug routine so easily, and it prefers to be underestimated.

 

_ Still, it isn’t affected at all, that is strange. But as Kronos, it would have made so many time jumps, it must be immune to the effects by now. _

 

It’s a sobering reminder of what Mick went through, and for how long.

 

“Yeah, we time-jumped. But "where to?" is the better question.”

 

“The town of Salvation, the Dakota territory, 1871.”

 

Ray is already in awe.

 

“I can't believe it... the Old West.” 

 

Mick stands up, irritation and nervousness filling the link. It snarls at Rip:

 

“This isn't going to work.”

 

“It'll buy us time. We can hide out here while the Hunters search the other Fragmentations.”

 

“What if they decide to check this place first?”

 

Kendra interrupts, apparently sharing Len’s exasperation at not understanding the time babble.

 

“You know, feel free to loop us in whenever it's convenient.” 

 

“As you've seen, time doesn't operate as is generally thought. It wants to happen. It takes time to harden. The... the timeline is unclear on occasion, constantly in flux. Hence the difficulty in locating Savage throughout history. Indeed. And one of the other interesting notions of time travel is the existence of Fragmentations.”

 

Mick chimes in, and presses its understanding of the matter through the link into Len’s mind.

 

“Temporal blind spots, specific places and times the Time Masters can't see.” 

 

“The town of Salvation and its surrounding environs are located within one of these Fragmentations.”

 

Len cuts off Rip’s long winded explanation, trying to avoid losing any more time listening to him talk.

 

“So, basically, we're hiding out in the Old West and hoping your boogeymen don't find us here.”

 

There’s a new layer of irritation in the link, directed at Len specifically. He’d accidentally minimized the situation, and Mick wasn’t happy about it. It growls at Len, a warning to pay more attention next time:

 

“The Hunters are not boogeymen. And you better hope they don't find us.”

 

Ray interrupts, smile shining bright as usual, completely missing the tone of the conversation.

 

“Well, at least not until I get a chance to "punch a few doggies" or "bust a bronco" or two. Not that I condone animal cruelty. It's just that I watched a lot of Westerns as a kid.”

 

Rip twitches, seemingly as irritated by Ray as Len is.

 

“Alas, you'll have to enjoy the Old West from in here, I'm afraid.”

 

Sara looks almost as disappointed as the Boy Scout.

 

“Oh, come on. What's the harm in us just taking a look around?”

 

Stein adds in his two cents, as snooty and alarmist as usual.

 

“With this group? Clearly, you haven't been paying attention.”

 

Ray pouts and whines:

 

“Ugh, if I'm in the Old West and I don't get to look around, I'm going to kick myself.”

 

The irritation from the link filling his head and Ray’s insufferable optimism make Len more eager to harm him than usual.

 

“I could help with that.”

 

Mick turns to Rip, eager enough to get out of the ship that he’s willing to argue for Ray’s side.

 

“I'll keep an eye on them. Don't worry. I'll be a good boy.”

 

\------

 

Mick makes a beeline for the bar. Len considers following him, but Sara slides in next to him and starts prying into his memories as Kronos. Len has no interest in getting involved in that volatile a conversation, so he trails Stein over to the card table. 

 

He’s never liked gambling, having watched his father waste precious money on it, but it might be entertaining to watch Stein lose. Surprisingly enough, the professor is holding his own.

 

“Didn't know you played cards.”

 

“Like you, Mr. Snart, I am an enigma.”

 

How presumptuous of him. Len begins to rethink his choice of partnership in the bar.

 

“ Raise. Aha. Thank you, gentlemen.”

 

He ends the game cleanly and takes the pot. The malcontents at the table grumble.

 

“I'm impressed.”

 

“My father was what some might call a degenerate gambler, others would say criminal. When I was old enough, he'd pull me in on some of his schemes. I picked up a thing or two at a few of the card tables he frequented. Then I took a different path. Like father, like son isn't always inevitable, Mr. Snart.”

 

Placing himself on the same level as Len? He can deal with that. But using his father to lecture him on how Len should be a hero and not let his asshole father “control” his life, that’s the breaking point. But, before Len can abandon him, the man across the table growls at Stein, ill intent clear.

 

“I had a full boat.”

 

“As did I. Full of kings, which beats your pair of queens.”

It looks like it tense moment will pass, but then a waitress puts a glass on the table next to the man.

 

“Don't I look busy to you?”

 

“ I'm sorry. I…”

 

“You spill another drop of that whiskey, and you will be.”

 

Stein, who has proven himself unable to let things go, even when he really should, speaks up.

 

“Just because you're losing doesn't mean you have to pick on the waitstaff.”

 

“Mind your own business, grandpa.”

 

Stein stands, unintentionally escalating the situation in a way he doesn’t fully understand.

 

“Unhand the lady.”

 

_ Time to deescalate before “grandpa” gets himself killed. _

 

“Now, now, boys, let's just take it easy.”

 

“Oh, when my friend here is being reasonable, we know we have a problem.”

 

_ See if I help you next time, you arrogant ass. _

 

The man’s hand twitches towards his gun. Len already has his out of the holster, held hidden beneath the table. Mick, mind fogged with alcohol, lazily considers helping, but decides not to.

 

_ You stay where you are, Mick. I can handle this. _

 

“I'm not the one with the problem. You are.”

 

The man starts to draw. Len whips his gun out from under the table and shoots him before it clears the holster. Stein gasps and claps his chest where the bullet would have hit him. A few people scream as the man’s body falls to the floor. Stein gapes at him.

 

“You killed him.”

 

“You're welcome.”

 

The patrons around them rise, angry and aggressive. Len steels himself for a fight in unfamiliar, unfriendly territory. Mick sits up and gets ready to fight. Stein still thinks he can talk his way out of this, and gives it his best shot.

 

“Clearly, the deceased was a friend of yours, but my friend here... “

 

Len cuts the professor off and lays out the facts. Maybe these criminals have a code of honor, maybe they don’t.

 

“Your friend drew first, got put down. It was a clean shot.”

 

“Do we look like we care about clean?”

 

_ Honorless, then. _

 

Stein stammers:

 

“He has a point.”

 

Even when he’s about to die, the professor has time to judge others on their hygiene. Amazing.

 

The saloon erupts with fighting. Mick is fighting his way towards Len, while the other legends take out any enemies near them. Suddenly, a gun goes off. A stranger in the corner with a massive scar on his cheek stands and addresses the saloon:

 

“All right! Playtime's over. Anybody's got a problem with that, they answer to me.”

 

The saloon clears out. Len eyes the stranger; he must be powerful for people to listen to him like that. Mick sizes him up as well, admiring his scar.

 

_ You think I should get one like that, Len? _

 

_ I think it’d make chewing hard, Mick. _

 

_ Huh, True. _

 

“Thank you, Mister…”

 

“Hex. Jonah Hex.You're not from around here, are you?”

 

“No. My friends and I are, uh... from out of town.”

 

They leave the saloon, Hex walking with them. Once they’ve made it down the steps, he turns and glares at them.

 

“All right. Why don't you folks tell me where you're really from?”

 

Ray speaks up, trying to sound impressive, and not quite managing it.

 

“I'm not sure that's any of your business, sir.”

 

“Let me rephrase that. Tell me when y'all from. You seven stick out like a dog in a manger.”

 

“Like he said, we're not from around here.”

 

Len sighs. Why is everyone on the team utterly incapable of reading people? This Hex guy is capable, and determined, and knows how to ask the right questions, which means he knows more than he should. Their pitiful attempts at misdirection aren’t going to do anything. 

 

Mick sends its sympathy through the link and thanks the stars that its drunk right now.

 

“You think you're the first time travelers I've ever come across?”

 

Sure enough, Hex gets to the point and smashes any doubts Len had about how much he knew.

 

“Uh, yes.”

 

Stein, once again incapable of believing that there are smart people in the world other than him.

 

“Where is he? I got some words that need saying.”

 

That doesn’t bode well. Hex is obviously a capable man, he knows about time travel, and he apparently has a grudge. This could get messy, fast.

 

“Where is who?”

 

“Rip Hunter.”

 

Len absolves not to get involved in this. Inside his head, Mick laughs. It’s not fond of Rip.

 

_ I hope this Hex guy shoots him. In the leg, or something. _

 

\--------

 

Len, true to his word, is avoiding the bridge where Hex and Rip are meeting. Mick, however, is lurking in the shadows, watching with anticipation. Len keeps the link open so he can follow the conversation, but largely ignores it until he hear’s Mick’s name.

 

“We might've gotten into a barroom brawl back in town.”

 

“Well, that was entirely predictable.”

 

“One of them poured lead into a member of the Stillwater gang.”

 

“Mr. Rory.”

 

Len bristles. The team’s insistence upon blaming Mick for everything pisses him off to no end. Mick smirks and sends calm through the link.

 

“Snart, actually.”

 

“Oh, that was gonna be my next guess.”

 

Now it’s Mick’s turn to bristle. It’s considering confronting Rip when Jax speaks up.

 

“This guy tried to kill Grey. Snart saved him.”

 

The link flares with warm affection. Mick loves Jax, they love Jax. He’s an untapped resource, full of potential. Young, and worthy of protection. They want to see him live a good life. And now, he’s defending Len without prompting, which is honestly more than either of them expected from the team.

 

Mick thinks to Len, mind resolute.

 

_ Jax is ours. Ours to protect, ours to teach. _

 

Len agrees, but they need to be careful.

 

_ As long as we don’t get in Stein’s way. The professor is his mate; Jax will listen to him over us.   _

 

\-----------

 

The gang rides into town, whooping and overconfident. Len taps his fingers on the barrel of his rifle, lowers it down to aim at Stillwater. He focuses, lining up the shot. He’s a pretty good sharpshooter, but at this distance, with this old of a weapon, he needs to be as careful as possible.

 

“One of mine is dead. And this here town's gonna pay.”

 

Ray steps in front of Stillwater, partially obscuring Len’s view of his target. Len sighs. While the Boy Scout ‘s heroism is occasionally endearing and even useful, but most of the time it’s just annoying.

 

“Now, who the hell are you supposed to be?” 

 

“John Wayne... Salvation's new sheriff. And this here town is under my protection.”

 

Mick watches from the ground, feeding information into Len’s head. It’s closer, so he can see every little twitch and shift of the gang members. It watches lazily, but with a hint of concern. It’s always been more attached to Ray than Len is.

 

“Well, you being new and all, you don't know about the arrangement that we got. See, me and my boys, we ride into town, we take whatever we want.”

 

“In exchange for what?”

 

“Not killing nobody.” 

 

“Well, that sounds reasonable and all, but arrangement's over.”

 

“Arrangement's over, boys.They teach you numbers where it is you're from? 'Cause the way I see it, there's only one of you and a whole mess of us.” 

 

Stillwater gets off his horse, stalking towards Ray. Len tenses; that’s a threat if he’s ever seen one. Sure enough, Stillwater’s hand twitches and the gun comes out of the holster.

 

Len fires. The bullet pings off the gun, knocking it out of Stillwater’s hand. The gang leader flinches back, fearful all of a sudden.

 

_ Nice shot, Len. _

 

_ Hmph. I was aiming for his hand. _

 

_ Well, Ray is safe and that’s all that matters. _

 

_ Turning down bloodshed in favor of Ray? Careful Mick, I might get jealous. _

 

They’ve already established that they’re free to love others. Occasionally a pretty thing will catch Mick’s eye. Sometimes Len gets a crush. They don’t bother themselves with petty things like jealousy.

 

Ray turns to Len and tips his hat in gratitude. The team seems to be in a generous mood today. As they should be; Len and Mick may be criminals, but they are skilled criminals who should be respected. Ray turns back to Stillwater and actually manages being threatening this time.

 

“You get out of town, and you don't come back, or the next bullet goes in your eye. I got sharpshooters all around. You really want to test me?” 

 

“Let's ride, boys.”

 

Stillwater retreats. Len grins in grim satisfaction. 

 

\----------

 

They go to get Stillwater. The attack starts out well; there’s enough fog to cover their approach, so the gang is unprepared. Mick jumps off of its horse, body slamming a man and continuing to punch his way through the gang.

 

Len and Ray stay on target. Ray knocks Stillwater out and throws him over the back of Len’s horse. Of course, he starts reciting the miranda rights a moment later, because he can’t do anything without being a nerd.

 

But, as they’re retreating, it all goes wrong. Jax gets lassoed and pulled off of his horse, into the hands of the gang. Mick stops instantly, rage sending the link flaring. Len’s mind burns and he grits his teeth, trying to keep the link controlled and the restraints on Mick’s powers intact. Mick screams:

 

“Jax!”

 

_ Mine mine mine ours ours ours protect kill them all! _

 

“We got to go!”

 

Mick and Len both react to that, emotions merging until they’re one creature thinking with one mind.

 

_ No no no no no MINE MINE MINE _

 

Len manages to speak through the chorus of despair in his  _ their _ head.

 

“Not without Jax!”

 

Hex turns to look at them, resolute and cold.

 

“Well, we got Stillwater. It means we got leverage. Live to fight another day or die tonight... your choice.”

 

_ No I-we won’t leave him he’s OURS. I can do it Len, I can kill them all and bring him back to us. Let me go and I’ll kill them all for you-us! _

 

_ Mick you know you can’t, you might accidentally kill Jax! We’ll get him back, but not that way. _

 

_ No no no… _

 

They ride away.

 

\-------

 

Len wanted to be Ray’s stand in for the shoot out. He’s a good shot, and he’ll do anything to get Jax back. But if Stillwater did manage to kill Len, then Mick would lose control, killing Jax, the team, and the townspeople. So Len is stuck walking Stillwater into the street.

 

Rip speaks up, voice echoing through the narrow street.

 

“I'll be drawing for Sheriff Palmer.”

 

“How do me and my boys know you're going to keep your word?”

 

“Sheriff Palmer's a straight shooter.” 

 

“Then he should be the one in the street.”

 

Len hands him the gun and backs off without a word. The hatred boiling in him  _ us _ makes him  _ them  _ want to shoot Stillwater and slaughter all of his gang until Jax is back in his  _ their _ hands.

 

Mick looks over Rip, ready to draw.

 

_ If he fails, don’t try to hold me back. I’ll kill them all and I won’t hurt Jax in the process. I can control my powers, Len. Have faith in me. _

 

_ I do, Mick. But the stakes are always so high when your powers are involved. _

 

_ Think, Len. I know you can feel what I feel. With how much I feel for Jax, do you really think I’d fail? _

 

_ I don’t think you would, but you know me. I never leave anything to chance. _

 

But Rip doesn’t fail. Stillwater goes down, Jax goes free.

 

They don’t get time to celebrate.

 

The hunters come down the street, open fire. The townspeople run, the legends leap into action. Len is twitchy without his cold gun, but there isn’t anything he can do about it.

 

Mick goes into battle with unusual relish, even for him. There’s something frantic in the way it fights; a wounded animal trapped in a corner. And worse, a deep, human shame. Len wants, needs, to get over to it, but there’s too many brawling people in the way.

 

Mick is grappling with one of the hunters, one on one. Len’s stomach clenches with concern; if they’re as dangerous as Mick says…

 

He needn’t have worried. Mick pulls the hunter’s knife out of its sheath and slices open his stomach with it. It turns the hunter around and slams it into the railing before burying the knife in his shoulder. The Hunter coughs blood and tries to hold his intestines in as he dies.

 

Len is relieved that Mick is safe, and viciously satisfied at Mick’s dispatching one of his tormentors. But something is wrong. Even as Mick enjoys the remaining fight, there's darkness waiting at the edges of its mind.

 

\----------

 

Len enters Mick’s room carefully. Mick is stewing in the darkness from before, he doesn't want to startle it. Also, it's room is cluttered with scavenged treasures, heaped in the shelves and the floor.

 

The skin across his upper back itches as he enters. He feels like he's being watched. It’s Mick’s fear, bleeding into Len’s mind. And there's a sickness twisting in the bottom of his stomach; that strange shame from before.

 

Len steps up behind Mick, carefully stepping around a pile of melted metal. He sends a wave of  _ i'm here _ through the link before slowly putting his hands on Mick’s shoulders. It's jumpy; Len doesn't want to startle it.

 

“Mick. What's wrong. Please, talk to me.”

 

It groans, head buried in its hands.

 

“You're afraid.”

 

_ I shouldn't be. I am immortal and powerful. I could not be said to be weak. So why am I afraid?  _

 

“They hurt you, and now they're coming back for more. Of course you're afraid.”

 

_ They hurt me. They  _ **_hurt_ ** _ me. How? I am strong, I should have been strong enough to stop them— _

 

Len feels bile rise in his throat. Mick, beautiful, strong Mick, blaming itself for what the Time Bastards had done. That's where the shame is coming from, an insidious thought growing inside it, that it is to blame.

 

“Just because you are strong doesn't mean you can't be hurt. It's not your fault, Mick, that the time masters are disgusting, powerful bastards.”

 

His breath catches then. It seems, no matter how strong they become, there will always be someone who is more powerful and more disgusting than them. As a child, it was his father. Now, as captain cold, it's the Time Masters.

 

He pushes down the hatred and despair that thought brings up in him.

 

_ There may be bigger, meaner bastards pushing you down, but that's why you learn how to take a punch. And then you stab them in the back. _

 

Len pushes that thought into Mick’s head. Take vengeance on the tormentors. Take vengeance on the Time Masters. 

 

_ They may have hurt you once, but that does not mean you are defeated _ .  _ Rise up again and make them regret what they did to you.  _

 

_ You are as bloodthirsty as I am, Len. And you see me, as something more than that bloodthirst. That is why I love you, Len. _

 

“You aren't broken, Mick. You're as strong as you were before. And I love you, whether you are strong or weak or somewhere in between.”

  
Mick leans into him, burying his face in Len’s chest. Len holds him tightly, shielding him from the world.


End file.
